“I’m only responsible for what I say, not for what you understand”
Here I am, a few feet above the ground, a few stones weighing about, much life and many moons drifted; with some trudged, though, I feel that too was gifted.
‘The Apology of Socrates’ by Plato, I haven’t read but know what in it is seated; the same story; of many to one calling to shame despite his life lived the best way it was gifted.
I am no Plato nor I feign to be Socratic, having lived my years with my decisions sifted, am I called to shame despite my life lived the best way it was gifted?
Friends a few I had; fewer still good ones; on the fingers of one hand I can count those who stayed, despite my all that I understood I was, I stayed; yet, do I hear as though of many to one calling to shame despite my life lived the best way it was gifted?
My mind and I share some yet still differ in much, I have loved every day lived as such; I think I still hear many to one from the shadows calling to shame despite my life lived the best way it was gifted.
Life had for me a gift stored; and now, I live the gift that life for me adored; in my sacred space this gift and I reside, and she never did give me a chide; nor called to shame because she knows that despite our lives, our life together will be lived the best way it was gifted.